Chuck vs the Intervention
by malamoo
Summary: A "Then and Now" offshoot. Continues from events of the "Then" in Chapter 14. Sarah tries to help a friend out with unexpected results. COMPLETE
1. Present Time

**Chuck vs the Intervention**

**Synopsis:** A "Then and Now" offshoot. Continues from events of the "Then" in Chapter 14. Sarah tries to help a friend out with unexpected results.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Chuck.

**A/N: **I've been forced out of early retirement by a horrid affliction known as insomnia. I present you not one but TWO fics. This is the first. It will be written in "Then and Now" fashion meaning that I will jump back and forth in time with this current chapter being the "anchor". Hopefully you will not be confused although I am very tired right now.

* * *

Chapter One: Present Time

The first thing Sarah does when she enters the office is not phoning her husband to make sure he'll get the baby on time to daycare or skimming the morning paper as per usual. It's to hunt down her friend.

Luckily it's not too hard, especially not this early in the morning.

Sarah takes full advantage of the fact that not many people have had their caffeine fix at a quarter to eight. Most are not even fully functional at this point, and her friend certainly fit the majority.

She finds Carol at her cubicle, and when the woman meets eyes with her, she knows she's cornered.

"So?" Sarah asks, sliding up next to her in a vacant chair. She hands her a fresh cup of coffee as a diplomacy gift of sorts. "Tell me everything."

"Uh, not much to tell," the woman replies, busily flipping through some empty file-folders.

"Oh come on," Sarah says. Carol eyes her strangely and it takes her a second to realize that this _is_ all so very strange. She's stepping into Ellie's domain, and Sarah knows her limitations as a mere novice.

Subtlety is not her forte. When she pries, she rummages.

"How was dinner last night?"

Carol shrugged. "Fine," she said, avoiding her probing stare. "Dinner was just fine. Thanks for the recommendation."

Sarah struggled with herself. "Well…what did you guys talk about? How was he? Was he nice to you?"

"Dinner was fine," Carol insisted. "He was very polite, and that was that."

Sarah tilted her head to one side, pondering her words. There had to be something else. Surely Carol had more to say about her dinner date than just 'fine'; even dinner with a sock puppet would have yielded more.

"You're not telling me something." Sarah wheeled her chair closer, closing in on the woman's personal space.

Carol swallowed nervously. She was like Chuck in that regard; all their emotions were out on display, neither of them could hide how they felt.

"There's something you should know."

The way she said it made chills run down her spine. Sarah leaned back in her chair, subconsciously trying to distance herself from the foreboding news.

"I saw Chuck." When Sarah didn't seem to understand, Carol clarified. "At the restaurant. I saw Chuck at the restaurant."

Sarah inhaled sharply. "Okay," she whispered. It was perfectly normal. "You saw my husband at the restaurant…" she repeated, trying to ease herself slowly into the realization.

Carol lacked the finesse for full disclosure. "With another woman. I saw him at the restaurant with another woman."

_Okay. Not normal. _Especially not when she says it in that tone.

Sarah's trained herself well, but even she can't help the shock that courses through her entire body. Her face twitches as if Carol's just slapped her across the cheek.

"Oh." Sarah leans back further against the seat, wishing there was some way to just slink away and forget it all. The conversation's taken a dangerous turn and she just wants to pretend like none of this ever happened.

"I'm so sorry," Carol said, squeezing her hand. "I…I wasn't sure—"

"Who?" Sarah demands, once she feels the room has stopped spinning.

Carol twists her lip. "I—"

"Carol!" Sarah snaps. "Who is it?"

"The girl down the hall. The new hire. Whatshername." Carol snaps her finger, trying to jog her memory. "Jill—"

Sarah clutches her chest, feeling as if a vessel in her head were about to pop.

"Jill—Jillian!" Carol exclaims. "I don't know her last name; you've seen her around haven't you?"

Sarah shakes her head; sure she'd never forget meeting someone with such a heinous name.

"I'm sure you have. She's tall, long brown hair…" Carol demonstrates, tugging at her own. "Straight, not curly like mine—"

"Brown eyes?" Sarah growls.

"No. I think they might be blue."

The discovery makes Sarah laugh, as inopportune a time as it were. "Wow, some variation this time…" she grumbled.

"Pardon?" Carol frowns but Sarah refuses to repeat herself. It was bad enough hearing it the first time.

"Chuck didn't mention anything last night…" Sarah thinks back to the previous evening. He had come home late after work, far later than she expected but he'd given her a perfectly plausible excuse.

Then again, he hadn't eaten very much last night.

"I'm sorry," Carol says again. She squeezes her friend's hand. "I just thought you should know."

Sarah sighs. Her heart felt as if it had been filled with lead. "I appreciate it, thank you."

It was a lie.

She would have been perfectly happy living in oblivion.


	2. 46 Hours Earlier

_A/N: There must be something wrong with me, because this is my fourth update in three days. _

_

* * *

_**Chapter 2: 46 hours earlier**

Sarah's sitting at the desk when it happens.

_"Huh, so you broke into a government controlled crime scene?" _

"_It's the F.B.I., how hard could it be?" _

Something jogs her memory and she's filled with a sense of déjà vu. Like she's heard it all before.

But her office door hangs slightly ajar, and with all the noise from outside the hall it's easy to hear things.

All sorts of things.

Plus with Charlotte she's hardly had more than four hours of sleep a night. It's not hard to put thoughts into her head these days.

Sarah ignores the chatter and goes back to her files. She convinces herself there's no rational explanation for hearing a voice she hasn't heard in years and dismisses the notion.

But the longer she sits in her chair, the more distinct the voice becomes until everything else becomes background static. The annoying voice she's spent years learning to filter out suddenly becomes the clearest thing for her.

_"Yeah, him...pathetic...idiot." _

Standing up, she clenches the pen in her hand as she walks to the door and pushes it completely open. Stepping out, she follows the source of the voice as it grows steadily louder and louder.

Then she turns the corner, and everything comes together.

"Oh my God."

She wasn't imagining things after all.

He turns and looks at her. If he was surprised, he hid it far better than she did.

"Well, talk to you later," the analyst remarks as he bids the man goodbye and leaves them in the hall.

Sarah isn't sure whether she should smile or frown or simply laugh at the marvel of this happenstance.

"Oh my God, what are you doing here?" she exclaims. She holds out her arms out of habit, but somehow an embrace would seem unnatural between them.

"I'm on leave," he remarks, his face falling into a familiar expression. "Thought I'd get updates on some old contacts."

"Which contacts?" She cocks her head to one side, enjoying every bit of this interrogation. The man looked as if his tongue were about to be forcibly cut out.

"Just people in the area," he said, his expression falling into a familiar frown.

Sarah folded her arms across her chest. There was no reason for her to look so eager. "You missed us didn't you?"

The man grunted. "Don't kid yourself. I didn't come here to find you."

"John Casey, you missed us," she goaded, grinning as wide as a Cheshire cat.

The man only hardened his expression but Sarah read through the clenched jaw and formidable scowl all the same.

"Don't be ridiculous. It was the most nauseatingly obnoxious assignment I have ever been on," he informed.

"So you wouldn't want to have dinner with your nauseatingly obnoxious old contacts tonight, huh?"

The man's eyes brighten but he refuses to give her the satisfaction of witnessing any actual change in expression. "I might swing by if I have time," he grumped.

Sarah laughed. _Translation: _I'd love to.


	3. 38 Hours Earlier

_A/N: In the spirit of Monday, i have this paltry offering for you. Maybe if i have time i will update the other one too. _

_

* * *

_**Chapter 3: (38 hours earlier) **

Sarah offers to get the door only because she's not sure her oblivious husband will read their old friend like he ought to. Their relationship had been pushed back and left untouched at square one, and Sarah remembers all too well what it had been like in those early years.

For a second she has the image of him in an old pyjama set with a stogie clenched between his teeth but it couldn't have been further from the truth. He's dressed all in black. It's a little grim but she didn't expect anything more or less from her old partner.

"Hi, Casey, come on in."

It's a habit that's never been corrected. He's never been John to her, and she's never been Sarah to him.

The man twists his face in some semblance of a smile as he crosses the threshold. He seems to consider the awkward gesture of an embrace for a split second just as she had earlier, but it still doesn't feel right.

He holds out his left hand, offering her the bottle of wine. "This is for you."

"Oh, thank you." Ten years ago if someone said they'd be doing this, having each other over like _friends_, she would have laughed in their faces.

Sarah wrinkles her brow. "What's in the other hand?"

Casey looks down at the ball of fluff poking out from the crevasses of his giant grip. If the animal were real, Sarah would have winced at the inhumane treatment she bore witness to.

Wordlessly the man shoved the stuffed animal into her hands, finally releasing it from the standard chokehold. Sarah held it up, gently patting the poor inanimate bunny as if trying to soothe the unimaginable horrors of being in the hands of one John Casey.

"Who is it for?" she asked, her eyes glimmering with mischief.

Casey looked down at his feet, refusing to even acknowledge the little white ball of fluff.

Sarah smiled. What she would have paid to have been there when he picked it out.

"Give it to her yourself," she said, shoving it back into his hands. Heading off to the kitchen, she set the bottle of wine down on the counter and scooped Charlotte out of her playpen.

Holding the little girl against her hip, she walked back to the hallway where Casey had hardly made a move.

"Casey, this is Charlotte." For some reason, she doesn't think he'd appreciate the little girl's nickname quite as much as she does. "Chuck," she whispered quietly in the babe's ear. "This is Uncle Casey."

The little girl's eyes grow wide once she discovers the man in front of them is someone worthy of her attention.

Sarah positively beamed with pride when Charlotte mumbled a soft: "Hello" before quickly burying her face into her mother's neck.

Casey mumbles something equally incomprehensible. In that moment, it's hard for Sarah to discern who was the more timid one.

"Do you want to hold her?"

The man stares at her and when his eyes bulge he looks less and less like a grown man and more and more like a bewildered deer in headlights. He swallows, making his Adam's apple bob and shakes his head vigorously.

Slowly he extends his right hand, demonstrating how exactly not to hold a bunny. Dangling the stuffed animal by its long ears, it sways back and forth like a pendulum in front of the little girl.

Charlotte's face splits into a giant grin, and Sarah knows exactly who she inherited that look from. With outstretched hands the little girl leans over, her tiny fingers burying themselves into the creature's soft white fur.

Sarah smiled. "What do you say?" she prompted.

Charlotte buried her face into the fluffy hairs, and uttered a few muffled syllables that resembled a "Thank you".

And then the most uncanny thing happened. Sarah wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes.

John Casey smiled on his own free will.


	4. 20 Hours and 8 Minutes Earlier

**Chapter 4: (20 hours and 8 minutes earlier) **

"Chuck…I need you to order us some take-out for dinner."

On the other end, Sarah thinks she hears a sigh. That couldn't be right. Did he actually _miss_ her cooking?

Perhaps he was just distracted.

It could be a million things in fact. Had all her meddling finally gotten to him? Or was he simply annoyed that she'd ignored his suggestions over and over again?

"Okay." It was hard for her to gauge how he felt from a one-syllable response.

"From the Blue Diner."

Sarah thought she heard some scribbling on the other end.

"Sure." His second response was no help either.

She knew what he was going to think—

* * *

_A/N: I'm sorry...  
_

_a) there was no way i could get around posting something this short. it's like this for a reason.  
_

_b) school has turned my brain to mush.  
_

_c) and if you are nice, i will post the next chapter of my other fic. and it will be longer than this post. and it will have chuck. _

_okies?  
_


	5. 72 Hours and 8 Minutes Earlier

**Chapter Five: (72 hours and 8 minutes earlier) **

"What do you think about Len Lawerson?"

The question comes out of nowhere, and even though Sarah poses it as innocently as possible, it doesn't make a difference. Chuck nearly chokes on his morning coffee.

"Len Lawerson from accounting?" His voice raises a pitch when he tries to clarify. "The guy who handles the company's taxes?"

Sarah shrugged. "Does he?" she asked, her voice still deceptively nonchalant. Grabbing a fistful of Cheerios from the box, she throws them on the high-chair tray but Charlotte doesn't look the least bit interested in breakfast. With wide blue eyes she looks from one parent to the other, just waiting for an opportunity to reign back all the attention.

"Yeah. What do you think of him?" She shifts her gaze, making it impossible for Chuck to gauge her level of interest.

"Len Lawerson. Are we talking about the same guy here?" Chuck stole a circle or two of the cereal and popped them into his mouth, eliciting a pitched whine from their daughter. "The guy who practically sticks on you like glue at every company party? The guy who sent you a bigger bouquet of flowers than I did on Valentine's Day?"

Sarah sprinkled another handful of Cheerios onto the tray to placate the babe.

"Did he?" She wrinkled her brows but Chuck's frown was hard evidence. He did. "I really don't remember any of that."

"Well I do," he said, stealing more bites of the cereal. Suddenly Charlotte began to shove the circles into her mouth like a vacuum.

Sarah smiled. She ruffled the little girl's hair, adding another handful of the cereal just to keep up with her. "So…" she asked, turning to look up at him. "What do you think?"

"I think you already know what I think about Len Lawerson."

She cocked her head to one side. "I think he's nice."

Chuck made a face and turned towards the sink just in time before he gagged on his coffee.

"What? You're kidding!"

Sarah was completely serious however. "I think he's quite a catch." Chuck stared at her in horror, waiting for her to break into a laugh or smile or something.

"He's financially sound, nice, funny…" Sarah tallied up all his attributes on her fingers and they were fast becoming too numerous for one hand. "I mean I don't remember what kinds of flowers he bought me on Valentine's Day but I remember yours and if you insist he sent me an even bigger bouquet, then we know he's generous."

"Not that generous," Chuck corrected. "They were ugly flowers."

Sarah ignored him. She was on a roll here.

"I hear he's a good cook. And he's smart. Oh, and he used to mountain-climb, didn't he? He's not hard on the eyes, Chuck."

Chuck's face looked as if all the blood had drained out of him. "Sarah…what are you saying?"


	6. 15 Minutes Later

**Chapter Six: (15 minutes later) **

Sarah wanders slowly back to her office, her mind still reeling after the kind of revelation Carol's given her. All she'd wanted was to help her friend, and suddenly everything had lost its focus.

It wasn't fair. This never happens when Ellie does it.

Already embittered by the events of the previous evening, the sight of the woman down the hall pushed Sarah over the edge.

_Her._

The new hire.

_Jill—_ian.

Sarah stopped in her tracks and she could see the woman on the other end of the hall do the same. They froze simultaneously, transfixed by the imminent encounter, but their expressions couldn't have been more different.

If Sarah were the rabid she-wolf, then Jillian would be the paralyzed lone hare.

The blond agent recovered first though her pace had changed and she was practically charging down the carpet in her heels.

With every step, Sarah felt the numbing venom in the back of her throat spread a little further, until nearly every part of her was rigid with black bile.

Of course she had to be a brunette. And of course she had to be _young_ and pretty. Life would be too unjust otherwise.

It's obvious her body's never been ruined by all the indignities of child-bearing, that she's never stepped foot outside an office building, never held a gun and had to make the split-second decision. And if that were not maddening enough, she probably knew how to cook a meal without nearly burning down the kitchen.

And now she's just standing there beside the filing cabinet, just shoving all her blatant perfection in Sarah's face.

Sarah had to take a deep breath. Honestly, she has no idea what's come over her. She would be lying if she said she wasn't the jealous type, but _not_ like this. Not without proof. Not without rationalization. And certainly not to the point of launching herself at some defenseless girl.

"Hello Mrs. Bartowski…" Jillian whimpers, shrinking under her gaze. The young woman backed herself against the wall and if she could, she would have melted into a puddle and fallen through the carpet.

Sarah could almost smell the guilt on her. It was apparent in the way her eyes flitted to avoid her gaze, the way her lips trembled as her body was pressed flat to the wall.

The new hire was afraid of her and she had every reason to be. Sarah wasn't going to give up her husband without a fight.

_Innocent until proven guilty..._wasn't that how it went? Well, the proof was mounting.

Sarah hides her clenched fists behind her back, doing everything in her power to maintain some distance. She doesn't even realize she's glaring until she sees the white of the girl's eyes threaten to eclipse all color and life.

They are blue after all.

"I'll be going now…" Jillian says meekly, shuffling past her. The second she was in the clear, she darted down the hall and disappeared from view.

Sarah blinked and the woman was gone.

"Oh my God." Carol suddenly appears from behind her, her face as white as a sheet. She grabs her friend's arm, tugging in an attempt to shake her from her sinister mood.

"Do you still carry a gun on you?"

Sarah balks. The muscles in her body ease and she pulls away, genuinely confused. "What? No!" She put a hand to her chest. "I have a baby at home!" she reminds. One that finds a way to get into anything and everything. "Why?"

Carol gives a sigh of relief. "Good. Otherwise, I think you would have shot her right then and there."

"Don't be ridiculous," Sarah says. "I wouldn't."

Her conscience knows better.

_Don't be ridiculous. _


	7. 36 Hours Earlier

**Chapter Seven: (36 hours earlier) **

Chuck's washing the dishes and Sarah fully intends to help him…as soon as she finds a way out of this daze. She's pinched herself over and over but the sense of surrealism has yet to leave her.

She's still convinced if she blinks that all this will have been a dream.

"Sarah?"

Sarah stirs and quickly stacks the plates on the table. From the living room she hears Charlotte squeal and it instinctively fills her with a wave of panic.

Trying her best to remain collected, she walks around the dining table and into the living room, taking the long way to the kitchen.

The sight that greets her nearly causes her to drop the plates in her hand.

John Casey is on the carpet on _all fours_, letting the infant use him as a jungle-gym. She's sprawled across his shoulder, drool dribbling over his expensive black suit.

Charlotte squeals again when the man shifts his shoulder, causing her to slide and grab onto his ears for dear life. She sits up and tugs as if they were reins, using him as her very own personal pony.

Sarah winces. It's like watching a lion being abused by a mouse.

Definitely surreal.

"Sarah?"

The woman spins around. "Coming!" she cries, turning her back on the scene. It unsettles her, but she gives her old partner more credit than she would some of Chuck's employees.

Chuck looks over the kitchen sink. "What do you think of Dr. Casey?"

"What?" It still irks her that he refers to the man as a doctor. He knows better, but old habits die hard. She should never have let Casey get away with it the first time.

"What do you think?" he repeats, taking the dirty dishes from her. She takes up a towel and begins to dry the clean ones.

Sarah wrinkles her brows. "He's nice. And Chuck seems to like him."

Chuck smiles. "He _is_ nice," he agrees. "And he's financially sound. And _rugged—_"

The thought causes Sarah to involuntarily shudder. "No."

"No, not rugged?"

"No. Not interested," she reminds, lest he forget that she did not in fact take every one of her former partners as a lover.

Chuck laughed. "Not for you, for Carol."

Sarah nearly drops the wine glass in her hand. If this kept up, they would have to eat off paper tableware tomorrow.

"That's just the amnesia talking," she informed. "John Casey and Carol Hoffman? Don't be ridiculous."

Chuck pulls a face, but Sarah's sure if he had his memories he would never in a million years think—

Suddenly the room adjacent fills with a high pitched shriek. Sarah sprints into the living room just in time to catch Charlotte eagle-spread on the man's chest, assailed with tickles in all directions.

Next to pruning his bonsais, it's the most tender thing she's seen him commit. It's nearly enough for her to reconsider—

_No! _Her conscience is right. What is she thinking?

"You know," Chuck reminds. "There's always Morgan."

Sarah hopes her silence will suffice for an answer. She takes a second look at the giant of a man sprawled on her living room carpet and thinks...

_Okay. Maybe this is just crazy enough it might work. _


	8. 8 Hours and 20 Minutes Later

_A/N: Okay, so you guys don't like the format. Please indulge me for a little longer and I promise I'll never do it again. _

_

* * *

_**Chapter Eight: (8 hours and 20 minutes later) **

It's been a long day and Sarah's counted down the grueling hours until she can put this behind her. She throws herself into her work, blocking out anything and everything; going so far as to cancel lunch with her husband on the guise of a meeting that doesn't exist.

The thought of some terrible dark secret between them is so upsetting she can't bear to phone and confront him, so she just hides in her office like the coward she is and waits for all this to blow over.

Carol's words hang over her like a storm cloud, and as the company clock approaches four, she can almost hear the rumblings of an imminent tempest.

From her vantage point on the second floor, Sarah can see that Chuck's already waiting for her in the foyer. Charlotte rests her head on her husband's shoulder, likely exhausted from all the excitement at daycare.

All that separates her from her family are a few dozen yards, but these last few steps are the hardest.

Chuck's engaged in conversation with Jillian. Sarah knows her scare tactic has failed when she witnesses the woman speaking easily with her husband. It's as if this morning's near-fatal-collision never happened.

Either the woman's naive or she's not afraid. Either way, she's an idiot.

A sharp pang hits Sarah in the chest when she sees Jillian reach for Charlotte's hand and shakes it ever so gently. That woman didn't deserve to touch her little girl.

The pang only intensifies when Charlotte smiles at the stranger. It's uncanny really. Her daughter isn't one for outsiders and Jillian, of all people, certainly didn't deserve her approval.

Chuck and the brunette exchange a few more words. He says something to her and the woman laughs, leaning unacceptably close when she does, her smile a blatant slap in the face for Sarah. The scene was enough to make her choke on her own breath.

"Mrs. Bartowski?"

Sarah stirs, only just realizing that she's being watched. The secretary looks at her with a worried frown, looking like she might need to call for help.

_Security, most likely. _

"Yes?" Sarah asked, trying her best to sound casual. Her voice only came out pitched and forced.

"Are you alright?"

Sarah plasters on a fake smile. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"You've been standing in that spot for a good five minutes," the secretary accuses. Her hand goes back to the phone, just waiting for the woman to slip up and give her a reason to dial.

Sarah smiles through gritted teeth. "Right. Well good night then."

With little choice, she leaves the safety of the second floor and marches stoically down the stairs to face the awful truth.

Chuck's face brightens when he catches sight of her. He waves and Charlotte grins, mimicking her father's motions. It's enough to melt Sarah's heart, but then she's reminded of the woman standing in the way of all that happiness and suddenly it feels as if there's a block of ice in her chest where her heart ought to be.

Jillian notices Sarah last, and when she does, her expression could hardly be one of joy. She lowers her head, makes a quick excuse and disappears long before Sarah reaches the landing.

Chuck frowns. "What was that all about?"

Sarah shrugs. "She probably forgot that she should have been doing _real_ work."

Her husband looks at her strangely, and it irks her that he should take the woman's side so readily. "It's past four. Isn't the work-day over?"

The look she gives him must have been especially severe because he quickly changes the topic. "Uhm... are you ready to go?"

"I was ready five minutes ago," she grumbles, twisting the secretary's words around.

Chuck looks wounded and he clutches their daughter a little tighter in his arms. "Um…well I've been here with Chuck since quarter to."

It's not lost on her that her husband doesn't usually confuse his name with Charlotte's. On any other occasion it would have been enough to placate her, but not today.

"Is something wrong, Sarah?"

Sarah stared at him, wondering how he could do this to her. After all they'd been through. After everything they'd built together.

One small confession is all it would take to completely destroy her. She's perfected the tough-girl act but it is what it is. All of it is for show; surely Chuck knew that.

Sarah bit down on her lip. "Nothing. What could possibly be wrong?" she asked, smiling weakly up at him. _Better to live happily in a lie than alone in the truth._

Chuck doesn't buy her answer and neither does Charlotte. The little girl pulls a face and even when Chuck tries to soothe her, she just stares accusingly at her mother.

No. Something was definitely wrong.


	9. 23 Hours Earlier

**Chapter Nine: (23 hours earlier) **

Even though it's her day off, Sarah still shows to the office. If that wasn't dedication, she didn't know what was. Never mind that she was only in the building for the coffee.

Casey's already seated in the cafeteria when she shows. With Charlotte propped against one side of her hip and the weight of the overstuffed diaper bag pressing against the other, she trudges over to the seat opposite his and offers him one of the coffees in the tray.

He takes it and with his other hand, yanks out a ball of brown fur from his pocket. It looks as if he's balled up the stuffed creature and jammed it in there as tight as he can; only when it unfurls does she realize it's another bunny.

Charlotte's drowsiness wears off in a snap and her face positively glows when she reaches out for the ball of fur and hugs it in her arms.

"Do you like it?" her mother asks. Charlotte nods. "Then what do you say?"

They take their seats and the little girl is so emboldened she goes so far as to speak without hiding behind her mother or her new furry friend.

"Thank you!" she exclaims, smiling wide enough to expose all the handful of tiny teeth she possessed.

Casey looks undeniably pleased with himself. He pauses for a brief moment to gloat but then it's back to business. "So, what's this that couldn't wait? My plane leaves to night and just so you know, just because you fed me dinner doesn't mean I owe you anything."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sarah says, though it's a struggle to have made it this far without breaking into a telltale grin.

Casey eyes her critically. "Come on? Coffee?" He held up his take-away cup. "You want something from me."

Sarah stared down at her cup, at Charlotte's luscious curls, at the bunny's crooked nose; everywhere but at her old partner.

"Fine," she growled. "I want you to go on a date with my friend."

Casey balks. He looks as if she's just asked him to give up half his liver. "I knew this was going to happen," he says, staring at her in disbelief. He shook his head with a sad smile. "You're losing it, you know that?"

"She's very nice," Sarah persisted. "And she works in this building."

"Not interested," Casey said, swigging his drink. "I'm a lone wolf; an alpha male. Nothing's going to tie me down."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "You haven't even met her."

"You think she's nice?"

"Yes."

"You like her?"

Sarah furrowed her brows. "This isn't about me but yeah, she's my friend."

"And I'll bet she's passionate and sweet and caring," he added with an arch of the brow.

Sarah was taken aback by the description. "Why, yes, she is."

Casey chuckled under his breath. Leaning forwards in his seat, he pointed his finger accusingly at her. "You see, that's exactly why. I'm not interested in Bartowski."

Sarah flushed bright red at the accusation. "It's not like that!"

Her denial only made the man laugh all the harder. "I bet she's a brunette." Sarah was silent. "Brown eyes?" He laughed when Sarah could say nothing to defend herself. "Oh, this is just…" He shakes his head. "You've lost it, you know that?"

Sarah pursed her lips. "Just have dinner with her. Do it as a favor to me."

Casey shook his head. He crossed his arms for good measure, putting up a formidable opposition to her request.

"Please?"

Casey wouldn't budge. "No. Not interested. If you keep this up I'm never visiting this godforsaken town again."

Sarah wasn't one to give up though; she had come prepared after all. Turning her head slightly, she whispered something into her daughter's ear.

The little girl grinned and gave her mother a knowing look. Putting down the brown bunny, she focused on her newfound uncle with the brightest, deepest, blue eyes.

Charlotte leaned forwards, her brows furrowing just so. It was an expression beyond her years and one she had perfected into an art form.

"Please?" the babe uttered, her voice little more than a mew. "Please?"

It was a plea potent enough to melt all the glaciers in the North much less the heart of one puny man such as John Casey.

"Please, Uwn-cle Casey?"

The man's jaws dropped. "Oh my God," he uttered. He was done for.

Sarah chuckled softly under her breath. "Not bad for someone who's lost it, huh?"


	10. 8 Hours and 30 Minutes Later

**Chapter 10: (8 hours and 30 minutes later) **

Sarah requests to drive. She needs the distraction; an excuse for the awkward silence that fills the car. It's nearly unbearable, but it would be ten times worse if she were in the passenger seat. At least now she has a reason for not speaking up.

"So…" Chuck twiddles his thumbs idly. He sneaks a peek at the carseat in the back but Charlotte's taken the easy way out and chosen to sleep through the ever-present tension.

"So…" he starts again, trying to fill in the spaces. "What do you think of Jillian?"

_Of all the things to ask…_Sarah takes a deep breath and clenches the steering wheel that much harder.

"She's okay," she dismisses, trying not to sound one way or the other.

"She's very nice," Chuck persuades. It's nothing like a confession but Sarah feels the dagger twist into her heart all the same. "I think you'd like her."

"Ha…" she murmurs quietly under her breath. _Not a chance._

"And she likes video games!" Chuck blurts, an achingly loveable grin on his face. When she realized who he was smiling for, she found a sudden desire to slap the look off his face.

"I could play them too, you know. I just choose not to."

"Huh?" Chuck wrinkles his brows.

Sarah stares straight ahead at the road. "I said I could play video games too," she repeats, but it doesn't make the comment any less random. "A lot of people play video games, Chuck. Doesn't make them any more likeable than if they didn't."

"Sarah." Chuck looks at her blankly. "I'm not following..."

The tension gets to be unbearable. "Do you like her?" she demands, purposefully avoiding his gaze. If he felt any guilt at all, she'd see it.

"She's nice," Chuck says, the second time today. "Did you know she just moved to LA two months ago? She doesn't have any family out here." He smiles nervously at her. "I think it would be nice if someone took the time to show her around."

At the suggestion, Sarah feels as if the ground has opened up and swallowed her whole.

_He's not even denying it. _

Sarah nearly slammed on the brakes, truck behind her be damned. She didn't care if she caused an umpteenth car pile-up in her wake, but she did care that her babe was sleeping soundly in the backseat.

All she could do was seethe quietly in the driver's seat. The most emotion she showed was in the flush of her cheeks.

"Is that why you had dinner with her last night?" she finally asked.

She couldn't help herself. She turned and looked at Chuck.

Guilt was written all over his face.

"Is that why you were late for dinner last night?" she asked, immediately looking away. No matter how tempted she was, she could not bear to confirm her own suspicions again.

Sarah's heart began to race when Chuck looked out the window. It wasn't like him to remain this quiet. She'd been expecting him to rush with the explanations; to flood her with assurances.

Nothing.

_Oh my God._ Sarah bit down on her lip to keep from bursting out in tears. The only relief she could take from this was that Charlotte was still fast asleep in the back.


	11. 20 Hours and 6 Minutes Earlier

**Chapter 11: (20 hours and 6 minutes earlier) **

"Not the one near your office. Can you pick it up from the one closer to the park?"

There was a pause on his end of the phone. Sarah could almost see his brows furrow in confusion.

"But it's the same thing," he protested. "They're owned by the same guy."

"No! No!" Sarah wracked her brain trying to think of a good excuse. "The steaks downtown are never as good."

"What? But you never order steak there…"

"And the fries are too soggy and the potatoes and too mushy and the gravy is too…too—"

"Runny?" he offered, in the same dubious tone he'd used before. "What is this really about, Sarah?"

Sarah groaned. She had no idea why everyone could see past her. Casey was right, she was losing her touch.

"I need you to check up on Casey."

For the first time all conversation, Chuck finally laughs. "Do you think he's going to choke on his steak?"

Sarah rubbed her temples. Beside her in the playpen, Charlotte shook her newfound friend, Mr. Brown Bunny, with violent gusto. The prospect of someday owning a family pet never seemed as regrettable an idea as it did then.

"No. No, he's out on a date with Carol," she said as she tried to convince Charlotte to be a little more _gentle. _The babe only frowned, determined to thwart her mother's wishes by demonstrating to her how her Uncle Casey handled toy bunnies.

There was a pause on the other end. "Oh," Chuck murmured. Then, as if finally understanding, his voice became louder. "OH!"

Sarah smiled wryly to herself. "Yes, do you catch my drift now?"

"Yes but you've got the wrong man for the job. I think you should go pick up the take-out. They are both your friends."

"No! Then she'll know something's up!"

"She'll recognize me too," Chuck protested.

"Then be discrete about it." Sarah sighed. "I just need you to go to prove that they are indeed having dinner together."

"You mean _spy_," he deadpanned.

Sarah smiled. "You make it sound like a bad thing." She closed her eyes, imagining herself in Chuck's office. She could see him so clearly in her mind; she knew she was close. "Please?" she pleaded.

When Chuck didn't respond, she realized she'd have to get Charlotte to work her magic again.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," he groaned, caving at the last second.

Sarah sighed with relief. "Thank you. Thank you." She knew he'd never fail her.

"Oh, and Chuck?"

"Hmm?" he grumped, scribbling something in the background.

"Could you try to go at around six to six-thirty?"

The scribbling stopped and she thought she heard him give a defeated sigh.

"I can't believe I'm doing this."

Sarah just smiled. "I love you too, Chuck."

.

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_A/N:_ _Would you prefer a) shorter but more frequent updates b) longer but less frequent updates or c) me to stop writing this slop _


	12. 8 Hours and 40 Minutes Later

_A/N: The final score is 10 for **A** ; 6 for **B **(assuming that is what **MXPW** meant when he said I would know) ; 1 for **C** and 14 for **Neither/I don't care** which means that a good portion of you will be glad to hear the next one is the last.  
_

_

* * *

_**Chapter 12: (8 Hours and 40 minutes later) **

"Did you know the Blue Diner by the park doesn't do take-out?"

"Huh?"

Chuck repeats himself. "They don't do take-out." He turns back to look at her, not in the least apologetic. "I had to sit at a table, order the meals, and then pack it all to go. And tip them twenty percent—for the inconvenience I caused them."

Sarah's face flushed with embarrassment. Now the tables were turned back on her. Hadn't she been the one who directed him there in the first place?

"She recognized me first," Chuck explained. "We got to chatting. I was waiting for my food, she was eating dinner alone." Just when Sarah thought he'd never smile again, Chuck gifted her with a mega-watt beaming grin. "Sarah…she's a brunette."

Sarah narrowed her eyes. "I know," she growled. _Don't remind me._

With one gentle squeeze on the shoulder, Chuck somehow managed to undo all her riled up tension. Her knotted muscles melted under his touch and she felt herself relax for the first time all day.

"So you know I have a pathological aversion to brunettes." He stuck his tongue out cheekily at her. "You're adorable when you're jealous, you know that? Adorable…and a little scary."

"I wasn't jealous!" she exclaimed. Sarah could feel the rush of denial color her cheeks a deep, deep red.

"So you wouldn't mind if I asked her out to dinner—"

Sarah glared at him, threatening him to finish the sentence.

Chuck stopped and grinned at her. "—with Morgan?" He clapped his hands together and laughed, and Sarah hated herself for being baited so easily.

"You can't," she said, pursing her lips.

"What? But why?"

"Because Morgan's going to have dinner with Carol."

Chuck wrinkled his brows. "Since when?"


	13. 72 Hours and 2 Minutes Earlier

_A/N: 180! I like round numbers (hey...there are worse things to fixate on) so when I got the notice today I decided to fix this up and post a little ahead of schedule. Thanks for all your reviews, and for putting up with this short format. _

**Chapter 13: (72 hours and 2 minutes earlier) **

"I think he'd make a good match for Carol."

Chuck stares at her as if he hadn't heard her correctly. After a minute or two, he blinks, leans onto her shoulder and breaks into something between a laugh and a sigh of relief.

"Oh…Carol!" he exclaims. "Oh thank God."

"Yeah." Sarah wrinkles her brows. "Who did you think I meant?"

Chuck shrugs, straightening himself. "I don't know." He leans in and scoops Charlotte out of her high-chair, burying his face into her onsie to hide his slightly flushed complexion.

"Well what do you think? They're both eligible, attractive, and highly successful. They'd be a good match."

Chuck frowns. "Okay...but why?"

"I feel bad." Then she looked at him as if to ask 'don't you?'. "I want her to find someone."

"Well you're going to feel worse after you've fixed her up with Len Lawerson," he joked. He tickled Charlotte's tummy which elicited a series of giggles from the toddler but nothing from Sarah's end. She was completely serious about all of this.

Chuck sighed. "Sarah, don't you think you are meddling?"

She wrinkled her brows as if she had never, not even once, considered it that way. "It's not meddling if you know it's for their own good."

The comment made Chuck arch his brows. "Am I still speaking to my wife or are you channelling my sister today?"

Sarah punches him in the arm. When he winces, Charlotte breaks out in giggles and claps her hands together.

"My name doesn't need to be Ellie Woodcomb for me to want to help someone."

"No, but your name ought to be Ellie Woodcomb if you insist that it's _help,_" he corrects. Chuck grinned, suppressing a laugh. He couldn't help himself though, and soon his entire body was shaking to keep it contained.

"What…?" she asked, placing a hand on her hip.

"I'm sorry. I just don't think you're cut out for matchmaking." Chuck finally breaks down in laughter, sinking to the floor while still clutching their daughter. "Carol Hoffman and Len Lawerson?" He laughed some more. "What's gotten into you?"

Sarah's face flushed scarlet red. "She's a good friend. In a lot of ways she's a lot like you." She looked ready to throw something at him but the sight of Charlotte still in his arms, staring innocently back at her, forced her to reconsider.

"Well then she's not going to like Len Lawerson very much," he quipped, struggling to catch his breath. "Hey…" he exclaims, as if he's just had a revelation. "How about Morgan?"

.

The End.


End file.
